


The Moons at War

by marzantd



Series: The Romance of the Moons of Mandalore [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Battle Scenes, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Lesbians in Space, Slow Burn, Tragedy, War Fic, brief nudity, sex mention, star-crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-14 13:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzantd/pseuds/marzantd
Summary: Two Mandalorian women are on opposite sides of the Civil War between the Mandalorian clans. Chirangi Nuskell is part of Clan Nuskell, who are allies of House Kryze, the pacifist rulers of Mandalore. Jeshka Liyurhkath is from Clan Orash, who are aligned with House Vizsla and seek to overthrow House Kryze. As war consumes Mandalore, these women meet on the battlefield, their chance encounters blossoming into a forbidden love.





	1. The War Begins

Jeshka looked out over the planet below. Its pale form stretched into the stars behind, illuminated by the weak glow of the distant white sun. She was far indeed from Mandalore, from home, but this was the life she had chosen when she joined the fleet of her Clan to serve in the outlying systems of Mandalorian space. She stole another glance downward, at the legendary Armour she wore, the Armour that had served her family for untold centuries. She had waited her whole life to wear the armour, sustained as a child by stories of her Clan's former glory, how they had fought against the Jedi in ages past, becoming warriors without peer even among the Mandalorians. But their glory had long faded. Clan Orash had been reduced to a few families in the forests of Concordia, their prowess blunted by the years of weakness brought on by the devastation of their home world. For years she had trained in the ancient arts of her people, mastering the blaster, the vibrosword, hand to hand. All so she could be permitted to take up the armour of Clan Orash, and restore their former glory.

Now the day approached. Admiral Jother had secretly organised dozens of starships from clans allied with House Vizsla, the only loyal House left, to stage an attack on the traitors who bowed to Kryze's cowardly ways. She felt a swell of pride as she looked left and right, seeing rows of true, mighty Mandalorians in the armour that was their heritage, their legacy. Soon they would be reclaiming their heritage for all Mandalore.

The planet the fleet orbited was called Garans. On its sweltering surface was a trading outpost operated by Clans Tosha and Nuskell, traitors all who had supplicated themselves to the Duke's wilting rule. In mere hours the ships would breach the atmosphere, drop the warriors just outside the perimeter of the outpost where the traitor Clans profited from the wider galaxy, and destroy all they found. They had the perfect justification - a chance alignment of Garans' orbit brought it temporarily within the ancient boundaries guaranteed to House Vizsla after the end of the last war. This pretext would allow them to prove their strength and hopefully convince many other Clans from other Houses that House Kryze could not be trusted to keep Mandalore safe. Then the true spirit of Mandalore could be restored.

***

Chirangi wiped her brow again, removing a little of the dense sweat that covered her face. Loading these crates was difficult work in the best of climates, but the already roasting temperatures of Garans' surface were boosted by the heatwave from this short period where it would be brought close to another sun. She did her duty gladly however. This work posting had allowed her to experience more of the galaxy. She had lived most of her life sheltered in her family home back on Mandalore's moon of Astore. She'd loved reading about far off places in the library at home, always hoping one day to visit at least a few of the worlds so far from the chilly moon of Astore. But the ancient temples of Jedha and the beautiful scenery of Alderaan would have to wait. At a mere seventeen years old, her parents had not yet allowed her the independence of being a full member of the Clan, which would allow her to travel wherever she wished.

She glanced at the sky. It was almost at the brightest point of the day. The thick clouds which allowed Garans its heat blocked out most of the light from the sun but kept its warming rays. In the distance, close to the horizon, she saw a disturbance among the clouds. Curious, she pulled out her macrobinoculars and pointed them at the source. Her heart lept. It was a dropship from Clan Orash, with its lights indicating it was on the attack. She dropped her macros back to her neck and ran, leaving her crates behind and fleeing to the overseer's office.

***

The jungle steam obscured Jeshka's vision. She switched through some of the different filters her visor allowed her. She knew in theory what each of them could do - scan for organics, infrared, energy readouts and so on - but had little training with what situations she should use them in. She asked the warrior next to her - "Use the particle filtration mode," the man replied gruffly, in a sleek set of armor that made her more traditional set look outmoded. Her armour emulated the ancient crusaders - the helmet was set into a hood, and the thick plates covered more of her body, adapted more for defense in melee combat than maneuverability. She still carried a jetpack, feeling its heavy weight drag her into the soft ground of the jungle. She would be needing it in a few minutes.

The warrior to her right raised her arm, and she did the same, signalling for all of those to her left to hold their positions. The edge of the jungle was in sight. Her heart raced - soon she would face her first combat. She would be born for a second time, and feel alive for the first. Her neighbour dropped her arm and activated her jet pack, signalling the beginning of the attack.

All around her Mandalorians took to the skies. She thumbed the button to launch herself skyward, the huge ancient nozzles of her pack bellowing fumes and flame. She hefted her heavy blaster rifle, breathing heavily. She spied the walls of the compound, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.

***

Blaster fire rained down beside Chirangi. She screamed as she finally reached the overseer's building. By that time others had already taken up arms to defend the site, using the hunting rifles they were provided to deal with native fauna, and some wearing hazard suits as makeshift protective armour. As she burst down the door of the overseer's office she saw he was already almost in his full Mandalorian armour.

"Nuskell! You're too important and too untrained to be fighting. You have to evacuate, now! Leave the battle to the warriors!"

"But sir!" she protested, " There's so many of them! You have to let me help, you need all you can get!"

The overseer strode past her, put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

"You'll only slow us down. You have to get out while you still can. We can't win but we can hold them off long enough for noncombatants like you to get to safety. Then we can think about making House Vizsla pay." he put on his helmet, the dirty yellow armour seeming to shine despite the dirt and the dense clouds. He pulled out his two sonic blasters and ran toward the perimeter. Chirangi ran in the opposite direction, and never saw him again.

***

Jeshka controlled her descent expertly. She landed just inside the compound's perimeter, and was combat ready as soon as she sighted her enemy for the first time. An unarmoured man was scrambling to raise an unwieldy hunting rifle against her. She raised her blaster rifle, aimed it squarely, and squeezed the trigger twice. The man twisted, fell, and was still. A thrill ran through her. She was doing her part for the restoration of Mandalore.

Running forward, she met up with another warrior who was engaged with an enemy in melee combat. He had pulled out his vibro-stave, and was duelling the enemy, who countered with an electrified animal prod. She pulled out her own vibro-sword, and slashed the enemy once across the back, felling him. Pride swelled in her again, but the warrior she had assisted looked furious.

"This was my fight, novice! You insult me. I needed no assistance from you."

"I-I'm sorry," Jeshka stammered.

"You cannot serve Mandalore at your best until you learn your place. Follow me and do as I say. Make no mistakes."

"Y-yes, sir. Yes sir." Jeshka replied.

The two of them swept a building, finding it clear of survivors, then she kept point for her companion as he sniped from the roof of the building. He felled two more enemies before Jeshka sighted a freighter departing from the landing pad, and her companion surmised that the other survivors had escaped. They made their way to the centre of the compound, where Admiral Jother was standing over a captive in yellow Mandalorian armour.

"This coward, Hohus Tosha of Clan Tosha, has betrayed Mandalore and its people by siding with the treacherous House Kryze. What say we, how shall he be punished?"

The assembled warriors cried out for blood.

***

The planet pulled away into the distance as Chirangi watched from the window. Only a few of the combat-capable staff at the compound had made it out alive. Many of the faces she had seen every day at the canteen were not the ones she saw now looking around the people stuffed into the freighter's cargo bay. She had thought for a time that they were all doomed anyway, when a number of old cruisers and bulk freighters from Vizsla's clans had been sighted in their path, but they had been allowed to escape. She didn't know why.

The freighter made the jump to Hyperspace, heading back to Mandalore. The Representative from the outpost stood up, and gravely she said, "House Vizsla must pay for what they have done today. We must be ready to answer them." The few warriors left cheered, but Chirangi was dismayed. Was the peace she so wished for so fragile? Would it all end so soon?


	2. The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after the attack on Garans, peace has failed. The Duke has been killed in battle, and his young daughter Satine has assumed the title of Duchess. She leads House Kryze and all its allies against House Vizsla. 
> 
> The fighting has reached Clan Nuskell's home moon of Astore. Now eighteen years old, Chirangi Nuskell prepares to take her place in her Clan, and don the armour handed down the generations of her family. Meanwhile, Jeshka fights against the clans of Astore, and the two will soon meet in battle for the first time...

The strings of the Ryl-lyre produced delicate sounds. Chirangi plucked carefully at them, the serene notes suggesting the quiet canyons of distant Ryloth, and the sorrowful history of the Twi'leks who lived there. She paused her plucking and hit a key on her datapad, playing back the recording of her earlier rhythmic beating of a pair of Mirial drums, and the slow breathing of the ancient horn from the days before the Nikto were bound by slavery. She continued the playing of the lyre, and added her voice to the melody, wordlessly conveying her dismay at the loss of the life she had wished for for so long. With the outbreak of war her studies of music and distant worlds had been suspended, and replaced by a frenzy of martial training. For a year she had worked endlessly, exhaustingly, to be ready when the day came she would be tasked with defending her clan. Sighing, she set down the lyre and silenced the music from her datapad. She stood from her four-poster bed and crossed the room, dressing into her formal clothing. She turned eighteen years old today, and that meant she must do her duty for Clan Nuskell. Her parents, the heads of the clan, would bestow upon her a set of Mandalorian Armour, which had been passed down by her relatives for generations. As the only child of the clan heads she must don the armour in wartime lest shame befall the family and, by extension, the whole clan.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her chestnut eyes stared back, taking in her dark skin, the glow of her cheeks, her hair as black as Astore's sky when bright Mandalore was not in sight. Her hair, which usually hung in thin ropes around her head, was bundled into a tight, formal bun on top of her head. She wore a robe of turquoise, and on top a breastplate of deep red and bright yellow, the colours of her clan. She tied the straps of her formal shin guards, decorated with symbols of Clan Nuskell - moons and stars, the long-extinct trees of Mandalore, and the vibro-halberd, the traditional weapon of the clan. Finally, she slid the golden tiara inlaid with sapphires mined from the airless caves of Astore into her hair, took a deep breath, and walked into the hallway.

Her parents greeted her there, both dressed in similar formal garb. Her father smiled sadly, the pain of his daughter having to go to war as he had, rather than live the peaceful life she deserved. Her mother too looked proud, but mournful, happy that the traditions of the clan were being continued, but sad that it must be this way. Together they stepped into the grand reception hall, and Chirangi blinked as hundreds of subjects of Clan Nuskell, gathered from across Astore, rose and applauded her. The artificial lighting bathed their faces, illuminating the hanging red banners. She turned, and knelt before her parents in the manner they had practiced dozens of times.

"Subjects of Clan Nuskell," her mother began, "we are gathered today to witness the ascent of Chirangi Nuskell, heir to the seat of Clan Nuskell, only daughter of Viola and Ta-Houku Nuskell."

"Chirangi Nuskell, daughter of mine, do you accept the honour bestowed upon you today?" her father continued.

"Yes, father!" she said, her voice ringing out through the hall.

"Do you accept the legacy of Clan Nuskell, the heritage of the Clan, and all that entails?" her mother asked, repeating words handed down for centuries.

"I do, mother!"

"And lastly," said her father, a note of pride in his voice, "do you accept the Mandalorian armor, the symbol of our clan, and do you promise to honour it and use it to defend the prestige of Clan Nuskell, on Mandalore and beyond, for as long as it is yours?"

"I accept!" Chirangi said, but felt her voice quiver. She hoped that the subjects would not see her weakness. She stood, turned, and stretched out her arms, as a pair of handmaids removed her formal armour and placed on her the set of Mandalorian Armour that would be hers from now on. As the helmet slid over her head, she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she saw the crowd through a filter of green. The assembled crowd cheered and shouted. Nuskell! Nuskell!

"I am Chirangi Nuskell, the defender of Clan Nuskell!" she said, signalling the end of the ceremony. The crowd roared.

***

Two score forms were moving over the ridge, by Jeshka's count. As night fell the warriors from Clan Sortons were bringing out the big guns. Arranged in a fan formation, they were all in heavy duty forms of armour, no jetpacks, all wielding large blaster cannons. They were expecting to flank the formations of the Orash troops and destroy their air support as it was grounded, counting on the pitch-dark nights of Astore when it was facing away from Mandalore to cover them. But they had reckoned without the knowledge of the warriors of Orash, who had been studying every tactical maneuver in Mandalorian history from birth. Touching the communicator key on her wrist, she subvocalised the enemy positions to her commander, Captain Yzaar.

"Good work, Lieutenant. Return to position." he replied tersely. She knew what that meant. The counterattack would begin shortly, and she had to be out of there by the time it began or else she would be just another target. Yzaar's lightning fast strategies left little room for error. She jumped up and began to jog along the perimeter, curving towards the aircraft hangar. She dared not use her jetpack lest she be spotted by the enemy, being blasted out of the sky or worse, giving away their element of surprise.

Behind her the sound of jets roaring cut into the night, followed by the barks of blaster cannons and the spitting of smaller arms. The battle had commenced. She smiled, happy that she had done her part another day.

Minutes passed, and she grew concerned. The sounds of battle were still echoing around. She thought the ambush would be complete by now. She risked turning around and checking out the fight to see what was happening. To her dismay, she saw that the warriors who had ambushed the Sortons artillery were themselves outflanked by a group of mobile fighters from Clan Nuskell, wielding deadly melee weapons and outmaneuvering the Mandalorians on her own side. Panicked, she subvocalised the situation to Captain Yzaar.

"Imbecile! You didn't check the full perimeter and drew my troops into a trap." he said as the colour drained from Jeshka's face under her helmet. "Return to the battle. Fortunately for you I have incoming mechanized troops from Clan Rook, who will win this battle for us."

"Yes sir." Jeshka responded, activating her jetpack and drawing her vibro-sword. A short flight later she dropped into the heart of the battle, landing behind one of the large Sortons artillerymen and slashing his knees from behind, felling him to the ground. She twisted her vibro-sword around and plunged it into the vulnerable gap in his armour at the back of his neck. A Nuskell fighter, bearing an electrified stave and a set of light armour coloured in darkest maroon, noticed her and charged at her. Jeshka dodged her first attack, and parried her follow-up swing with her vibro-sword. She took one hand off her sword and palmed her enemy's helmet, disorienting her long enough to deliver a quick slash at her arm, followed by a finishing lunge at her side, where the light armour gave way. She too fell to the ground, defeated. As she looked around for the next opponent she saw the bright lights of Rook's walkers, arriving on the scene to end the battle.

Jeshka removed her helmet, spilling her matted mahogany hair into the chilling Astore night. Sweat gleamed on her brown flesh despite the cold, more from the scolding by the Captain than the battle itself. Her cowardly opponents were on their knees in surrender, and as the highest ranked officer in the group, she commanded their helmets be removed. Her soldiers obeyed, pulling off the helmets of their heritage and scattering them on the ground like they were nothing more than a hardhat discarded by a labourer after a long day of work. She smiled and marched down the line of prisoners, but her smile was replaced by shock when she saw just who it was leading the attack.

The heir to Clan Nuskell herself, Chirangi Nuskell, scowled up at Jeshka.


	3. The Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chirangi has been captured by Jeshka's forces. As the Heir to a Clan, Chirangi is a valuable prize. At the forward base of House Vizsla on Astore, the assembled commanders of the Clans debate what to do with her...

Another tear dropped from Chirangi's eyes, which were screwed tightly shut. She had requested the playing of the soothing music of Ithor in her desolate cell, music which was said to have healing properties, but she did not feel healed. She felt ashamed. Ashamed that, only a scant three months after her vow to defend her clan, she had failed. All that training brought to nothing. And now her entire life could well be at an end, depending on the whims of her captors, who right now held her life in their hands a few rooms away.

***

"She must die," repeated Admiral Jother again, "for the honour of her Clan as much as ours. She must be executed, we have no other choice."

"She could be valuable to us! All of Clan Nuskell would join us if she were to turn. Astore could be ours, and from there we could stage invasions of the cities of our enemies from two orbits. Concordia is already ours, the space over Mandalore can belong to us!" suggested Admiral Shora.

"Could, could, could. You rely on possibilities, Shora. I suggest we look at the facts," intoned General Sturjeon. She continued, "we have the sole heir of an entire clan at our mercy. We have the power to kill her, or we have the power to keep her prisoner forever if we wish. These are the facts."

Jeshka remained quiet. As the officer who captured Chirangi Nuskell she was allowed at the debate among the Generals, Admirals and heads of Clans. Her compatriot in the battle, Major Kustra from Clan Rook, was making a fool of herself in front of the highest command on Astore by suggesting that they capture both her parents as well, and ransom them in exchange for loyalty from Clan Nuskell. Capturing Chirangi had been a stroke of extreme luck, which would likely not be repeated, and a mission to the heart of Nuskell territory on their native moon would either destroy the forces sent to capture the Clan heads, or else bleed them and the Nuskell clan enough that no gain could be made even if they did turn. So the entire strategy must hinge on the daughter.

"Here, General? Could we not relocate her?" someone asked.

"Hm. We could. It would be harder for her allies to come to her rescue if she is not on Astore, even more difficult if they have no idea where she is at all. But where?"

The head of Clan Vizsla stepped forward. "My clan has begun a mining operation on the forest moon of Concordia. This operation is unknown to many of our enemies. If we move the Nuskell heir to one of our mines, it could be a long time before any of our enemies discover where she is, by which time we can make sure she is moved somewhere else. Thus we hold every card in this game of chance. Let our enemies do as they will, and we will respond appropriately. They will join us, or she will die."

The room murmured in agreement. Jeshka was still silent.

***

The door of Chirangi's cell hummed open and the Ithorian music stopped suddenly. A guard entered, accompanied by the warrior in the pale purple armour who had captured her. She glowered, turning her head away. The warrior who captured her was now in her helmet, her face unseen. Chirangi had turned that face over and over in her mind, the expression on her face when she had noticed Chirangi imprinted into her memory. What was it she saw there? The smugness washed away in an instant, replaced by...

"Ahem. You are being transferred. You will move to the hangar bay where you will be placed in the cargo hold of an unmarked freighter, which will take you to your destination. Please follow me to the hangar bay." With that, the purple warrior turned and walked out, and the helmetless guard indicated Chirangi should follow her. She didn't see much choice. At least her death was going to be postponed for a while.

She stumbled alongside the enemy warrior, struggling to keep her brisk pace. She looked around at the walls of the base. This forward base was built inside what was once a castle that belonged to Clan Tosha, the sister Clan of Nuskell, but had been abandoned for generations. Some part of her still hoped that a rescue mission was already underway, that at any moment her parents might burst in and save her, and that her captor would be the one kneeling to her.

She had looked so young...

In time they reached the hangar. The guard bundled her into the bleak cargo hold, empty except for a few nondescript containers, and her captor walked past her through the hold into the rest of the ship. She turned around, glanced at Chirangi for just a second, and then closed the door.

***

In the cockpit of the old freighter, Jeshka kept her helmet on. She felt tired somehow. She had slept restlessly the previous night. The face of her captive swirled in her mind as she tried to sleep. That wounded scowl. What was it that kept eating at her? She had put on a defiant face, but Jeshka could see the fear in her eyes. Jeshka had trained her whole life to suppress her pity, to show no mercy in the face of weakness, but she had been stunned even before she realised who she had captured. She shook her head and stared again out the viewport, the earthen colours of the moon of Concordia, her home, emerging from the darkness in front of her. The sublight journey had taken but a few hours, and even then after a deliberate detour to throw their captive off any guesses as to her destination. Home grew larger and larger, and she glanced over at her copilot as he began punching in the landing sequence that would take them to one of Clan Vizsla's secret mines.

The sun shone bright overhead as the freighter's engines blew the trees of Concordia flat. The landing platform was nothing more than an oversized clearing in the forest, the mine's entrance nearby only slightly more visible. Her copilot stood up, told her to wait outside, and headed to the cargo bay. She did as she was told, and soon stood outside the cargo door as it lowered. Their captive stumbled out, blindfolded, led by the arm by her copilot.

"She's all yours," he chuckled.

"I'll take good care of her," she replied, but the reply was missing the same humour as his first statement. She took the arm of her captive and led her to the mine's entrance.

***

Chirangi could not have hazarded the first guess where she was, other than that she was still in the Mandalore system. Other than that she could have been on any of thousands of asteroids for all she knew. Her captor stood close, holding her by the arm even after her blindfold had been removed. Her environment was artificially lit, and seemed to be in a cave somewhere. A Clan Vizsla man stood in front of her, tall and fair-haired.

"Good to see you, Lieutenant Liyurhkath. And Miss Nuskell. We're very glad to have you as our guest." he smiled viciously.

"You too, sir. I trust she won't be any trouble." the Lieutenant tilted her helmeted head towards Chirangi. A Lieutenant? She had hardly looked older than Chirangi herself.

The Vizsla man chuckled. "I'm sure you won't, will you?" Chirangi said nothing. "I am your new overseer, Foreman Grytch. Address me only as Foreman or Sir. Your uniform is on the bench, as are your tools.

Uniform? Tools? What was this place?

"You are relieved, Lieutenant Liyurhkath. Report to the guard post immediately. I want our newest worker and I to get acquainted." he smiled that foul smile again.

***

It had been a week since Jeshka had delivered the heir to Clan Nuskell into the guts of the mine, and the custody of Foreman Grytch. He even made Jeshka shiver when she saw him.

She sat in her guard uniform, alone at a table in the mess hall. She prodded at her food. Her ancestral home was on this very moon. She had seen the map of Vizsla's secret mines in the Foreman's office - there were dozens of future projects already marked out, all over her Clan's territory. Clan Vizsla seemed to want to turn all of Concordia into one giant ore mine, at the expense of its forests. Shaking her head, she told herself not to be sentimental. The life of a Mandalorian was sacrifice. Sacrifice for a greater cause. If a few trees had to be felled to win back Mandalore's honour, so be it.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. Other guards were already finishing their conversations and heading back to work. She stood, tossed her uneaten food in the recycling unit, and headed off on her rounds. She couldn't wait to be back on real duty.

Four hours into her rounds, Jeshka heard faint sobbing from around a corner, in the shadows where no artificial light reached, and far from any work station. She pulled out her baton, ready to vent some of her recent confusion in an old fashioned beating.

And the face of her confusion stared back at her.

***

Chirangi held her breath. The same woman who had taken her captive now stood before her, baton out. She was shirking work to cry, the Foreman must have found out and sent this woman to teach her a lesson. She closed her eyes and prepared for the beating -

\- which never came. Instead she heard the baton snap back into the Lieutenant's - what had the foreman said her name was? - holster, and felt a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but opened her eyes.

"You should really get back to work," said the Lieutenant, "if the Foreman finds us like this we're both dead." She chuckled nervously.

Chirangi said nothing. She held out her hand instead, which was calloused and bleeding.

"Oh! What? How did this happen?"

"I-I'm not good with these tools," Chirangi said, "I don't know what I'm doing. I tried, I tried to follow what the others were doing, but there's so much work area to cover I-I never see anyone else..."

"How much did the Foreman send you to cover? Did he show you how to use the tools?"

"No...he just told me to work these areas..." Chirangi pulled out the simple data slate she had been given, which contained a map of part of the mine. The Lieutenant's eyes widened.

"All this? No wonder you're bleeding. Even a professional would have trouble covering this much. Here, one second, I'll just -" Chirangi felt the Lieutenant's hand in hers. She flinched and drew it back.

"Hey, it's okay!" the Lieutenant said, "look, I've got this." She pulled out a medical kit, and wrapped some gauze imbued with Alazhi bacteria over the bleeding area. "My name is Jeshka. You're Chirangi, right?"

"Y-yeah. Chirangi Nuskell, of-"

"Clan Nuskell. The Heir. I know, I captured you!" she chuckled again, "Come on, I'll show you how to use these without hurting yourself."

Jeshka. She had taken Chirangi hostage, but now she was helping her. Was it pity she had seen in her eyes? Mercy? The warriors of House Vizsla trained without mercy, she thought. It must have been pity, or something else...

***

"Sir. We've scouted the whole moon. Your daughter isn't on Astore anymore."

Ta-Houku Nuskell was forlorn. He had expected this, but it was no less crushing for that. He embraced his wife, drawing her near.

"What will we do?" Viola Nuskell asked, "We cannot abandon our daughter."

"No, but we must not abandon our Clan either. Chirangi has done her duty. We must do ours."

"Yes," Viola said, wiping away her tears, "we must lead Clan Nuskell. Even if our daughter never returns...our heir..."

The messenger, too, looked upset as the Nuskell heads turned to him. "Yes Sir, Ma'am. I will inform our warriors. We fight for the clan. We can only hope your daughter yet lives, so that one day she may be returned to us."

***

Jeshka was finally being called back to the front, a month after her encounter with the Nuskell heir in the mine. Her first feeling when she got the news was fear, not excitement, and she berated herself afterward. She was more concerned for the Nuskell daughter than for the good of Mandalore.

She sat in her room the night before her departure. She was being deployed to Astore again in the morning. She held her helmet in her hands, the helmet that generations before her had worn, improved, fought and died in. Right now it just looked like a helmet. She wondered where Chirangi's armour was. Then she remembered. It was at the base in Astore, where she was being deployed again tomorrow! Her heart leapt. But again she scolded herself. What was she thinking? Chirangi Nuskell was an important leverage. Or so she thought. It turned out that Chirangi's disappearance had done little to stop the fighting on Astore. Clan Nuskell remained stubbornly opposed to House Vizsla's invasion, and Clan Tosha stood with them. Perhaps it would make no difference after all whether Chirangi toiled here, or escaped to her home...

Jeshka found herself moving across the room, removing her armour, and sneaking out of her bunk room into the Concordian night. Mandalore loomed overhead, as though watching her, judging the actions she was taking. She thought again, this makes no difference. Freeing this one woman will not betray Mandalore. Or would it? Her devotion to duty and honour could be tarnished. She might not be able to live with it. But inside her, the fear of Chirangi suffering now outweighed the fear of philosophical repurcussion in the future. She crossed the mine, unlocked the door to the labourer's bunks, and stole into the room where Chirangi slept. She stood over her sleeping form, bent over, and pressed her hand firmly against Chirangi's mouth before jabbing her in the side. Chirangi woke suddenly, but did not cry out, thankfully. Jeshka pressed her finger to her lips for silence, and jerked her head toward the door. Let's go, she implied. Chirangi was in her sleeping shifts, her worker's uniform at the end of the bed. There was no time to pull it on. Jeshka took her hand and rushed her out of the room, deleting the record of the door being unlocked on her way out.

***

Chirangi's face was flushed. She felt heat prickles all over her body as she ran barefooted over the soft turf of Concordia. She was worried that the brightness of Mandalore could give them away, but they were safe, and eventually they reached the freighter than Jeshka would leave on tomorrow morning.

Jeshka hissed a few words at her. "Stay here until sunrise. Don't sleep. When the door opens sneak on and get in the empty crate. I'm the only one flying back. We're going to Astore." and then she was gone.

 

Chirangi watched her disappear into the night. Her heart raced. She stared up at Mandalore, and saw the dim form of Astore beside it.


	4. The Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years have passed since Chirangi Nuskell was returned secretly to her family. The war on Astore has turned against House Vizsla. Chirangi prepares to take part in the assault on Vizsla's base in the former Clan Tosha castle. Meanwhile, as Vizsla pulls back forces from Astore to concentrate their efforts on other fronts, Jeshka Liyurhkath is redeployed to the shattered world of Concord Dawn, where the ancient order of Journeyman Protectors is split by the civil war...

The ruined world glittered like a hundred thousand diamonds. The trail of rubble led off into the distance, rock that had stood for billions of years flung apart by wars hundreds of lifetimes past. This whole system felt old. Jeshka could almost feel the press of history on her shoulders.

The Journeyman Protectors were elite warriors of Mandalore, supposedly the best of the best. Jeshka had thought that they would all side with Vizsla as true Mandalorians, but many of the Protectors wished to side with Kryze, forsaking their elite status in her eyes. Disappointing. But that only meant another opportunity to prove the worth of the True Mandalorian cause. The Protectors were a symbol to all Mandlore, the greatest of the great, and with the assistance of the combined fleet from House Vizsla and their new allies from House Soulon, they would surely defeat the traitor Protectors and return to Mandalore as heroes. Then the tide would turn and Mandalore could finally live in peace.

Peace? Victory. Strength. That's what she meant. Mandalore would be strong again.

Jeshka stepped back from the viewport. Her helmet that had accompanied her through the years sat under her arm. Three years. Skirmishes mostly. She had seen her fair share of action already, but now the war was truly unfolding, with war reaching to the surface of Mandalore, to other systems in the sector, with Houses forced to choose a side. Unfortunately House Kryze remained strong still, and they had allies of their own in Houses that supported them. But in the domed cities where the Clans of Houses Vizsla and Soulon made their home, she knew, thousands upon thousands of levies were being raised, the citizenry armed and readied for full scale war, to catch their enemies unprepared. Farmers, manual labourers, traders, all were being armed with blaster rifles and formed into armies. She smiled. This would bring victory. Swift and decisive.

Then there would be peace.

***

The thin skein of sky above Astore was glazed in white, milky and pale like the eye of a blind woman. The white sun hung distant and low. Soon it would set and the ink black night would fall again, for six hours until Mandalore rose and broke the day. The castle hunched ahead of the group, dark and squat, its four towers tapering into the sky before ending abruptly in four flat platforms. Chirangi looked left and right. In the distance were two other groups of warriors from Clan Nuskell led by her mother and father, each numbering 150 just like her own. They were a mix of mobile and light troopers, chosen for infiltration. On the other side of the castle were three other groups led by the three sons of Clan Tosha. Together the eight hundred warriors would scale the castle walls and bring down the defenders from within.

The siege of the castle had lasted six months already. Vehicle-mounted heavy cannons had fired at the castle's thick walls nearly ceaselessly, but had failed to penetrate. The castle was now the last refuge of the Vizsla forces on Astore, so it was decided to end the siege decisively.

The sun fell below the horizon and darkness covered the moon. Eight hundred Mandalorians switched to night vision simultaneously. Now the battle was on. There would be no communication between the groups now until the wall had been breached. Chirangi led her group forward, hurrying across the dark plain and prepping her jetpack. She unsheathed her vibro-halberd, one of the treasures of the clan. Around her blaster pistols, vibro-swords, sonic weapons, and others all fell into the hands of their owners. She risked a glance upward to the towers, which were not her objective. The guards had only now begun sweeping the plains with their lights. They were expecting more artillery, not this. Good. Everythign was going to plan so far. She refocused her sights on the fast approaching walls of the castle, slowing to a jog before stopping and turning to face her group. She checked her timepiece. Three minutes forty two seconds. In eighteen seconds, hopefully all of the groups would be in the air and approaching their objective. Her heart kept time with the countdown. Seven...six...five...

She nodded, and activated her jet pack. She saw a hundred and fifty others do the same. They raced up the colossal wall, reaching the top in seconds flat, and angled their descent to land on the broad battlements of the castle. Their landing was near-perfect. They landed in a rough formation, melee weapons pressing outwards, ready to do battle. Chirangi scanned around her and pointed her halberd twice in opposite directions, signalling the split into two groups, one to head toward each of the towers. Shortly after this the north-eastern tower's light went dim and the sound of blaster fire and clashing swords rang out. Across the castle's keep she saw the lights go out first in the south-western tower, then north-west, finally south-east. The first stage was a success.

***

Flak fire rattled the Kshr'va-class transport ship again as Jeshka struggled to settle it. Her two copilots were visibly shaken themselves. Seconds earlier another of their companion transports had exploded in a firey ball and swiftly disappeared from their view. The wing of five Claw Fighters escorting them were doing their best to draw the fire, but it was an uphill struggle. Their objective was the large converted frigate of the traitor Protectors that was nestled securely shortly ahead of them amongst the rubble of the planet and out of range of the fleet, which threatened any attempt at landing. Jeshka only hoped that the three dozen warriors the two remaining transports carried would be enough to disable the ship's weapon systems, and for long enough to allow the fleet to dispatch transports to the surface. She shielded her eyes as a Claw Fighter was struck by a flak shot and spiralled out of control, bursting into flame off to the ship's starboard. She replied with a barrage of rockets aimed at the ship's shield generator. They flew across empty space, corkscrewing as enemy countermeasures kicked in, many detonating harmlessly but a pair reaching their target and destroying the spherical generator which jutted from the ship's bridge in a ball of flame.

"Good shot!" cried one pilot. Ahead the Claw Fighters opened fire on the ship now that its shields were down. They engaged the weapon systems, closing to extremely close range and strafing the missile launchers that threatened their landing. Their companion transport launched another barrage of rockets, blowing open a hole in the hull of the frigate. Jeshka cheered silently. The day was theirs. The damage sustained would surely be too much for the frigate.

But no, she had underestimated these traitors. The Protectors were evidently made of sterner stuff. There was no surrender code broadcast yet. As her copilots set the vector to land on the hull breach, she headed back to the hold to prepare to board with the rest of the Clan Orash warriors. Minutes later, the hold depressurised, and the door swung open into space. The nineteen warriors activated automated air jets on their jetpacks that would guide them to the hull breach. Around them floated the bodies of the crew who had been blown out into space when the frigate's hull was breached, their faces frozen in final terror. The warriors pushed past them and into the hull breach, landing in the corridor of the ship which had been sealed off at both ends by airlock doors.

"Get the cutters out. Break through the door on that side. We're heading for the bridge," an officer commanded. He outranked Jeshka so she followed his orders. Two members of the group headed towards the door and began to cut open the door using the airless environment plasma cutters. It was slow work but eventually the airlock door was removed and the inner door bashed open, flooding more air inside the ship into space. Magnetized boots kept Jeshka and her allies in place as the wind blew past them, then they rushed through the breach and bore their weapons.

***

The Vizsla defenders were fighting to the last. Chirangi had hoped they would surrender once it became clear that they would lose the walls, but it seemed they were determined to go down fighting and take as many with them. A large knot of warriors was pressed between two groups of opponents, from her group and her father's. Chirangi stood at the front of the press of men and women around her, locked shoulder to shoulder in a wall of humming and crackling weapons, pushing forward against their blue-armoured opponents. Chirangi swung her halberd again, glancing an enemy in crusader armour who stumbled, giving her the opportunity she needed to stride forward with her counter-swing and drive the halberd into his stomach. The vibration of the halberd cut through his armour and felled him swiftly. Above, blaster pistols sang as jetpack wielding Mandalorians carved deadly arcs into the night sky, dogfighting each other with dangerous precision. A single mistake at that speed spelled certain death. Her line advanced inch by inch, step by step, felling their enemies until only one remained. Chirangi pulled her halberd's blade from the body of her last enemy and stared ahead in awe. A woman dual wielding vibro-swords expertly was slaying any Nuskell warrior who dared approach her. Again she countered the swing of an enemy's stave and slashed her neck with a killing blow. Chirangi looked across to the other group of Nuskell troops and saw her father's helmet. She felt the eye contact and nodded. The two stepped forward, flanking their enemy. Her father glanced below at the keep's courtyard, where a large force of defenders was massing, and up at the walls where the other groups were preparing to engage them.

"All Nuskell warriors, jump to the courtyard. Use your grenades. Fight for our honour. We will deal with the walls."

"Yes sir!" the warriors shouted, activating their jetpacks and speeding down to the courtyard. On the other side of the castle the groups from Clan Tosha did the same. The detonation of dozens of grenades among the Vizsla ranks lit up the night as Chirangi and her father turned their eyes back to their own opponent. She twirled her vibro swords and pointed one at each opponent.

"My name is Surshri Vizsla, Clan Vizsla, member of the honourable Vizsla family by marriage! You will die this night, and I will secure honour for my Clan and all Mandalore," she removed her helmet, exposing her pale skin and short red hair to the night, "we fight in the old ways. Melee combat. To the death. I can take you both."

"You can try," her father responded, "I am Ta-Houku Nuskell, Clan Head of Clan Nuskell, and this is Chirangi Nuskell, my Heir. I accept your challenge," he said while removing his helmet, his dreadlocked hair spilling out.

"I accept too," Chirangi found herself saying. Her heart leapt. This was a chance to cement her years of training, finally prove to herself that she was worthy of the seat of the Clan in the eyes of Mandalore. The planet itself now slowly rose over the horizon. In hours it would be fully visible. By then, the battle would be over, one way or the other. She removed her helmet, her stringy hair now whipping in the chill wind.

The battle begun. Surshri Vizsla span expertly, catching both of them off guard with her powerful attack. Chirangi just managed to deflect her attack, and watched as she brought the deflected sword around to catch her father's halberd. He grunted, pushing back against her strike and swinging high against her head. She dodged backwards, but Chirangi saw her opportunity and swung for her legs. She thought she was guaranteed a hit, but she watched in shock as Surshri kicked her own legs in the air, falling backward, before catching herself with her jetpack and rocketing toward Chirangi. For a split second Chirangi's eyes widened before the Vizsla woman's head connected with her nose and she saw stars. She fell backward and bashed the back of her head on the hard floor of the battlements. As she slipped out of consciousness, she saw on either side of her a pair of armoured corpses, one Vizsla and one Nuskell, and on the horizon, bright Mandalore...

***

Jeshka now stood over the former captain of the Frigate. He knelt on the ground in surrender as many had already knelt before her in this war. Many including...

She was distracted by the roar of the engines of the Frigate. The engineer she had sent to the engine room had done her work. The frigate was on its way to the combined fleet, and from the viewport she could already see a number of transport ships and their escorts heading to the surface of Concord Dawn. In the fighting on the bridge, her commanding officer had been killed, and now she was the ranking officer due to her recent promotion to Captain in the Orash forces.

She exhaled through her nose. With the support of two houses, the loyal Protectors would soon triumph over the traitors. She was sure.

Then there could be...victory. Swift victory.

Surely.

***

Chirangi's eyes flickered open. Her head felt like a supernova. Slowly, carefully, she sat up. Her eyes refocused in the light. Mandalore was bright in the eastern sky, half exposed. She panicked and looked around for her father, seeing him on the top of the tower ahead of her, on the flat platform at the tower's end. He was still dueling the Vizsla woman, and he was on the back foot. She scrambled to her feet, searching around her for her halberd. It was gone. She ran to the edge of the battlements, pulling down her rangefinder and confirming her fear. Her halberd was lying on the ground far below. She rushed back and grabbed a electro-stave from a fallen Vizsla warrior, and attempted to activate her jet pack. But another disaster, it had been shorted by her hard landing. She sprinted to the tower and began to climb it manually. She used her powerful vambraces to force her way up the tower, digging her hands and feet into the outer part of the wall. She was almost out of breath when she finally stretched her right hand over the flat surface of the tower. She pulled her torso up - just in time to witness Surshri Vizsla lock both of her swords into her father's halberd's grip, yanking it away from him and tossing it across the platform. He quickly moved to activate the wrist-blades in his vambraces, but Surshri brought one of her swords across his arms, slicing off both his hands in one motion, before plunging the other deep into his chest.

"FATHER!" screamed Chirangi, pulling herself on to the platform at last, "FATHER!" she cried again. Enraged, she activated the electro-stave and charged the murderous woman who stood before her. The woman smiled as she drew her sword out of Chirangi's father's chest. She pointed it at Chirangi as if to say, "you're next."

They met with an intense clash. Chirangi felt herself snarling like a beast uncaged at this murderer. She planted her back foot and shoved forward. But the Vizsla woman was too practiced and leaned into the weight, catching Chirangi off balance and causing her front foot to slip her forward. Thinking she had won already, she brought her sword around and prepared to stab it into Chirangi's exposed back. By some miracle, Chirangi subconsciously assumed a perfect combat roll and dodged the slash, turning around and counterattacking. Vizsla twisted her hand uncomfortably to bring her sword into a blocking position, and Chirangi took her opportunity, swinging the stave downward and forcing her arm to twist further than it was meant to. She drew back the stave and prepared to swing it again at her opponent's head, but she suddenly saw Vizsla's other sword arm was already swinging towards her own exposed head. Panicking, she activated the stave and shoved it forward, putting her whole weight into the push.

She felt the stave being pulled out of her hands by a sudden force. Her stave had somehow hit Vizsla's jetpack and caused it to fire uncontrollably. Surshri Vizsla screamed as she was launched spiralling into the air, a trail of smoke racing away towards the east, and her life ended as a fiery explosion just next to the position of the moon of Concordia in the sky.

Chirangi felt weak. She stumbled over to the other side of the platform where her father lay. His eyes were wide open. He had been killed instantly when the sword entered his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry father. I couldn't - I couldn't save you...I'm not strong enough to lead the clan alone. Please father, please! Come back to me..."

She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, howling and screaming into the night.

An eternity later she heard the sound of jetpacks approaching the platform. She almost hoped the enemy had come to end her own life. She could not lead the clan like this. She was a weakling, sentimental. A Mandalorian mourned not their war dead, only honoured their memory and hoped one day to die the same way. But it hurt so much. She didn't want her father to go...

But it was not the enemy. Instead she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, as familiar as it had been the day she first felt it.

"You must lead the Clan now, Chirangi. Your father gave his life for the Clan. War is sacrifice, my daughter. Let's hope that his is the last of our bloodline."

Chirangi stood, and embraced her mother. She screwed her eyes shut tightly and let the tears flow, like she would when the world seemed too large and scary when she was young. Like she had years ago when her captor had found her in the mine...

"I will, mother. I promise."

She opened her eyes. Mandalore now stood bright in the sky. A new day had dawned.


	5. Love on the Shattered World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war between the Protector factions of Concord Dawn drags on. What was supposed to be a quick victory in favour of the allies of House Vizsla has turned into a year-long campaign as forces from House Kryze battle alongside the Protectors. As the new head of her Clan, Chirangi Nuskell has been at the forefront of each battle as Clan Nuskell fights to secure Concord Dawn alongside House Kryze. Meanwhile, just the other side of the battle lines, Jeshka Liyurhkath, now a high-ranking officer, leads an expedition force to assess the strength of the enemy...

Ten camps. Looked permanent. This was a staging ground. Jeshka cursed. This meant another extension to a war that had already taken up twelve long months of her life. She touched the key on her vambrace that zoomed out the macros in her helmet visor and prepared to return to base camp. There she would report to General Vizsla about this unfortunate development, and join the strategy meeting about the next steps to be taken. Jeshka turned to pick up her scouting pack and head back to the speeder bike, but paused when she felt a brief tremor in the ground. Looking around, she switched to energy detection and spotted a vague shape half a click north-north-west. She debated simply returning with the information already gathered, but decided it was worth finding out as much as possible while she was here. So, she hopped on the speeder bike and headed in the direction of the energy signature.

***

The legs of Chirangi's scout walker stalked silently through the underbrush. Concord Dawn had once supported thriving agriculture, generations ago, but unceasing war had devastated the landscape, leaving only isolated zones on the side of the planet furthest from the obliterated section that had been thrown into space able to support large scale agriculture. The camps they had set up bordered the desolation zone, near to the enormous, ancient buildings that housed the gravity manipulators keeping Concord Dawn's atmosphere stable. Only a special few knew how to work their arcane mechanisms, supposedly almost directly based on a long-forgotten planet restoration project in the Old Republic. Chirangi sighed, looking ahead at the trail of destruction leading off into the sky. This was what she fought to end. Mandalore, Concord Dawn - how many Mandalorian worlds would suffer such destruction through war, if it did not stop now?

Chirangi's thoughts were interrupted by the high-pitched whine of a speeder bike. She quickly brought up the perimeter schedule on her visor to see if she had assigned any speeder patrols that would overlap her own route. She was the head of Clan Nuskell, but she delegated many of the important tactical decisions to her generals, who were more experienced and just as importantly, more bold. Chirangi had also taken aboard the long-held wisdom that respect was earned, not given. To that end she had always fought alongside her warriors, taken part in the dangerous missions to prove she was willing to sacrifice herself for the Clan, and more. Hence she was assigned to patrol duty that she had herself planned out.

There were no speeders in her path. A thrill ran through her. Had their encampment already been discovered? Was it just a passing civilian speeder? No, only the gravity manipulator staff would come this close to the devastation zone. It had to be an enemy scout. She slammed hard on the brakes of the walker, halting it in a half-step, and quickly swinging it about to face the source of the noise. She switched to heat vision - it would be best to capture the scout alive if possible. She increased the speed of the walker to full and pressed toward the source of the noise, amplified by her helmet mic, and prepared to intercept.

***

Jeshka panicked as she saw the energy sig abruptly halt and change direction. She'd been spotted, that much was sure. Now she faced a decision; turn back or attack. She had a supply of ion grenades that could short whatever it was ahead, so she decided to take her chances and attack. She reached with one hand into her scout pack, pulled out a grenade, and subtly changed direction to match the enemy's intercept vector. She switched to night vision again, ready to toss her grenade as soon as whatever was ahead came within range.

***

The whine of the speeder grew louder and louder. Chirangi took deep breaths. It would be in range within seconds if her reckoning was right. She maintained her heat vision, watching for the moment that the bright warmth of a body would emerge from the cool underbrush. She switched her scout walker's single cannon to ion mode. She wanted to disable the speeder if possible, without killing the occupant. She exhaled as the speeder's whine grew to a din, drowning out the quiet rustle of the little life that was here. She exhaled. The time had come. A bright shape emerged, bursting through the bushes ahead of her.

***

Jeshka sighted her target. A scout walker, one cannon, probably on patrol. Single occupant - she could take them easily once the walker was down. She roared past the walker at top speed, and with trained precision, loosed her ion grenade at its legs. At almost the same instant, an ion blast burst only a meter or two ahead of her, covering her entire visor in a blinding flash of energy. Jeshka yelled as she almost lost control of the speeder. She brought her formerly grenade bearing hand back on the speeder's controls and swung it around, just in time to avoid a spinout. She switched to normal vision, stars still dancing in her eyes from the ion blast, and careened toward the spot where the walker kneeled, one leg knocked out of comission, and the occupant nowhere to be seen.

***

Chirangi stood from her roll. The walker slumped over behind her, its right leg bending over as its circuits were shorted. Quickly, she scanned around for her assailant, spotting them careening back toward her. Her ion shot had missed, it seemed, but she still had another trick up her vambrace. Her shot may have missed but it seemed to have disoriented the pilot, whose movements were sluggish and clumsy. This was an opportunity. She watched the bright shape angle itself toward her, and raised her vambrace, unleashing from it an electrical pulse to short the speeder's circuitry and deliver to her its occupant. She watched and smiled as the pulse smacked into the speeder dead on, the occupant flying from their seat and the speeder losing control and exploding somewhere off to her left. She pulled out her blaster pistol and set it to stun. Rushing forward to the shape lying prone on the ground, she squeezed the trigger two times, a pair of bright circles wooshing from her pistol and causing the enemy scout's arms to first flail, and then go limp. She silently cheered, pulling off her helmet and running over to the scout's body, turning them over. Her heart skipped a beat. Lying helpless on the ground before her was the purple-armoured figure of the woman who had captured her, and saved her life, all those years ago.

***

Jeshka finally came to. Her training kicked in and she instantly attempted to assume a battle position, but found her hands were bound. Somehow, she was still outside. Had the enemy pilot been killed, and she had simply crashed the speeder after she was blinded? No, surely not. She was an expert at speeder piloting, a temporary obstruction like that wouldn't have been enough to send her careening into the sky. It was then she felt the wind on her cheeks and noticed that she was helmetless. So she had been captured after all. But why was she not inside, at the enemy camp, being interrogated? Instead she sat in the scrub on a low hill, overlooking the gaping hole in the world.

Jeshka looked to her left and right. A few meters away to her right, her captor was standing with her helmet at her side, facing away from Jeshka, back to the devastation. Jeshka's heart did somersaults. It couldn't be! But yes - her captor was none other than Chirangi Nuskell. She had heard rumors that her father had been killed in the final siege on Astore last year, which would make her the Clan head now. It was definitely her - that dark hair which hung in loose stringy twists, and the deep red armour over a robe of brightest turquoise.

Chirangi turned around, facing Jeshka. She dropped her helmet on the rough ground and sat next to Jeshka. The sun was starting to rise among the asteroids, painting them with an ugly light and spreading shadows across the world.

"Why didn't you take me to your base?" Jeshka demanded. "Why did you let me live? I know where your camp is. If you don't kill me I can transmit your coordinates to my command."

Chirangi smiled. "No you can't. I checked your scouting pack. You only have a portable holo-communicator. It's short range and can only send unencrypted messages. Only an idiot would let their enemy listen in to vital communications like that. No, you have to return to your base to deliver your report."

"Very perceptive, Clan Leader. You are the head of Clan Nuskell now, are you not?"

Chirangi's smile dropped. "Yes, unfortunately. My father was killed at the siege on Astore. I lead Clan Nuskell now, and I will end this war and bring peace to Mandalore."

Jeshka sighed and lay back on the hill. She stretched her banded hands up to the sky. "Peace. You will bring shame to Mandalore. You'll let it become another toady of the Republic, supplicating to every whim of their distant Senate."

Chirangi strode forward and stood over Jeshka. "And what will you bring? More destruction? More death?" she gestured to the asteroids overhead, "more of this?"

"If that's what it takes to make Mandalore strong."

Chirangi shook her head. If words could win this war, it would never have started. The enemy only listened to violence. So she gave up, and simply sat next to Jeshka, facing the pit alongside her. She looked down, and saw Jeshka studying her face. She turned away, embarrassed, before turning back and asking the burning question that had stuck with her for two years.

"Why did you do it? Why did you free me from the mine?"

Jeshka shrugged. She couldn't answer that. "It was a spur of the moment thing."

"Pretty big decision to make on the spur of the moment. If your superiors found out you freed an enemy clan heir-"

"Well, they didn't. I covered my tracks well, and told them you must have escaped yourself."

Chirangi cocked her head. "They believed you? They thought I could do that?"

"uh. Yeah, they believed me. Else I wouldn't be here, I'd be down the mines myself by now."

Chirangi laughed. Maybe now she could find her way out of a prison, hardened by the years of war, but then she was still little more than a scared girl, her head full of dreams. "I see. So tell me, Lieutenant Liyurhkath. What's your name?"

"Jeshka. And it's Major Liyurhkath now."

Chirangi chuckled again. "A Major! Wow. If we were on the same side, I'd still outrank you."

Jeshka flushed. It was true. Even if she ascended to the highest ranks, her loyalty still belonged to the head of Clan Orash. Jeshka thought of him - she had met him only once, at a ball hosted on Concordia to celebrate his birthday, when Jeshka was only fourteen years old. He had been rude, condescending and dismissive of her, as though she were a mere peasant. He had leered at dozens of people throughout the evening and always inserted himself uncomfortably into every conversation. Compared to the glowing, smiling woman before her-

"W-well, we aren't. My loyalty is to Lord Kustra Orash, head of Clan Orash, and to House Vizsla. Above all, to true Mandalore."

"True Mandalore, wow," Chirangi faux-gasped, "and who's to say what is or isn't true?"

"Those with the strength t-to prove it..." Jeshka started, before realising that Chirangi wasn't listening, instead absent-mindedly gazing skyward.

"How old are you anyway? You don't look old enough to be a good clan head. It takes decades of martial training."

Chirangi snapped her head back. "I'm 21. Age has nothing to do with it. I rule well, I've studied methods of governing from all over the galaxy. And I listen, and I lead from the front. I'm an exemplar of what a Clan Head should be!" Chirangi said, indignantly.

Jeshka shook her head. "A great leader has no need to defend their honour with words. Their actions will speak for them."

"Well, I think I'm a great leader. And so does my mother!"

Jeshka roared with laughter. "Aww, mummy's proud of you!" she tossed her head back and flattened herself onto the hill, gripping her knees with her bound hands and letting her laugh ring out across the landscape. Chirangi looked embarrassed, but snorted, and joined in the laughter. She clutched her belly and lay back on the hill also, beside Jeshka. For a moment, they both forgot all about the war, about Mandalore. All there was was -

-each other. Chirangi opened her eyes and found herself staring into Jeshka's. They were a pale, earthy green, like lichen growing on a tree, flecked with brown like bark. Her hair, kinked and waving, spread out around her head, blowing in the wind. The scent of rich earth and old growth was about her. And then her eyes were closed and they kissed. They lay side by side, drawing close, and Chirangi silently reached down and unlocked Jeshka's shackles. Then they separated, and Chirangi bolted up, feeling shame. Jeshka propped herself up on her arms.

"Chirangi," Jeshka said, "please. Forget the war. Ever since-" she started saying, and realised it was true, "ever since I saw you I've been in love. For two years I've thought about you. Now we're here, there's no war between us. Please, Chirangi."

Chirangi turned back, biting her lower lip, tears in her eyes. "This war has taken so much from me already. My father. My future. So many of my people, I- I can't lose you too. I've already gone too far, now I know your name, I know you....the past years I thought for sure you were dead in the fighting, or imprisoned because of me! I couldn't bear not knowing where you are, but I have to lead my clan. Please Jeshka, leave your war behind. You're on the wrong side, I know you'll see the right way one day. Please just - I don't know, leave me or come with me."

Jeshka shook her head. "I can't leave this fight. I'm part of something bigger. I hoped that you could see that, but apparently not. But - I can't leave you either, not now, now that fate has brought us together like this." Jeshka drew close, brushing some of Chirangi's hair out of her eyes, "I won't let this war break us apart, no matter what. I'll keep in contact with you - I have a holo-transmitter, I can keep your frequency on me and we'll see each other every time we're nearby. We can meet up, we can forget the war and be in love. And," she smiled sadly, "we'll do our best not to die." Jeshka placed her hand on the back of Chirangi's head, and looked deep into her eyes once more. Then they kissed again, passionately, driving every pent up feeling into it. They embraced, hands behind each other's backs, and slid back onto the ground. Breathing heavily, Jeshka moved her hands to her belt and undid it, watching Chirangi do the same. They knelt and put their hands on each other's armour, removing it piece by piece until they sat in their robes only. Without her armour Jeshka felt cold, exposed. It was a second skin to her. But it was okay, because Chirangi was next to her. They were vulnerable, together. For this moment, everything was alright. Jeshka embraced Chirangi again, and they kissed once more. Jeshka lay back and let time pass them by.

As the sun moved through the asteroid field, a long shadow was cast over their solitary hill. They made love with each other in the darkness, not knowing when they would meet again.


	6. Frontline Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chirangi and Jeshka meet in a small town on Concord Dawn, shortly after they first fell in love with each other.

"I've only had one other girlfriend..." Chirangi admitted, "she was a girl in my music class when I was 15. She played the Troiken fife with so much grace...for an instrument designed to use with four arms!"

She giggled, remembering the bizarre yet beautiful image.

"I'd watch her so intently when she played...and sometimes she would look at me and smile and I would just..." she struggled to find the words to describe exactly how that felt. Sweet, so sweet, yet agonizing.

"She must have noticed the way I looked at her, because she asked me to come to a party with her one day. I couldn't turn her down. I went to the party, wore my prettiest dress and hoped against hope that she felt the same way I did. I hardly left her side the whole party. We danced together for a long time, and eventually we ran away from the party and sat outside on the ash-grass, talking and laughing. Then she kissed me. I was overjoyed, and overwhelmed too. Then she told me she was leaving to study in the Republic musical academy on the fourth moon of Qysho II. We only had a few precious weeks together after that. I was heartbroken when she left, I cried for days, even my father-" Chirangi stopped, and stood still in the middle of the crowded street.

Jeshka noticed, and swung around to face her. "Hey...it's okay if you want to take a minute. There's a real nice café up ahead that serves the sweetest little shousaberry cakes this side of the Ugojiss Spiral. We'll sit a minute, love, you can talk to me about how you're feeling."

Chirangi smiled and laughed. "Thanks, my darling. I'll be okay...but those cakes sound perfect! Let's sit outside and just... enjoy the time we have. Before we have to separate again." 

Jeshka smiled back, and pressed her face into the beautiful curve of Chirangi's neck, wrapping her arms around her.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I love you, my sweet shousaberry."

Jeshka snorted with laughter as she broke away from Chirangi. Chirangi laughed out loud and clung to her girlfriend. Another blissful moment passed, and Jeshka took Chirangi's hand and led her to the café.

"It's just down this street. The tables and chairs are pretty rickety so if you order a drink, make sure you don't spill it!"

They pushed through the bustling crowd, humans from Concord Dawn who couldn't leave mingling with aliens from a hundred stars who came because they had nowhere else to go. Both women thought - it is these people for whom I truly fight. What that meant, was a question with a thousand answers. But right now, there was no fight. Only each other.


	7. The Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months after the last meeting of Chirangi and Jeshka, the campaign on Concord Dawn has come to an end. The few remaining Journeyman Protectors who saw House Vizsla as the true rulers of Mandalore have changed sides, and the Vizsla forces are preparing to withdraw from Concord Dawn, and join the escalating conflict on the surface of Mandalore. Not knowing when or where they will meet again, Chirangi and Jeshka arrange a date in the spaceport town where the Vizsla ships will soon depart...

Jeshka leaned on the rail that stopped her from falling into the fuel pit below. To the west, the sun hung low in the sky, opposite the trail of debris which disappeared into a haze past the horizon. Her simple dress blew in the gust as another transport took off from the dirty spaceport ahead. Her hair, through the careful application of some imported styling gel from Naboo, stayed miraculously shapely despite the gale, settling back to its carefully brushed waves that she had worked so hard on. 

 "Hey!" Cried a beautiful, familiar voice. She turned to see Chirangi running towards her. She grinned and flung open her arms, which Chirangi, wearing a beautiful flowing skirt and a bright red acrylo-chath jacket which glowed in the light of the setting sun eagerly leapt into. Chirangi's hair was kept in check by a lacquered headband which encircled her forehead and curved at her ears along the nape of her neck, exposing a patch of hair between the two bands and bringing her dangling locks to order. Jeshka swung her around a couple times before setting her down, without releasing her tight grip.

 "My love!" Jeshka shouted eagerly and loudly. Right now she didn't care who heard. 

"Jeshka...it's been a long three months. I've missed you," Chirangi replied.

"I've missed you too, Chirangi. So much. Come on, we've got a lot to do before tomorrow night!" Jeshka took Chirangi's hand in hers and, joyfully, they ran off together towards the town.

 Each new room in the botanical garden brought more and more wonder to Chirangi. This island of miraculous colour in the middle of the drab spaceport was a true sight to behold. Plants, fungi and other strange forms of growth from a two dozen worlds were carefully curated by an elderly Ithorian man and his grandson, a bashful lad of a few years younger than Chirangi. As a precaution, Chirangi had brought a pair of dark glasses and a scarf that could convert into an opaque veil at a moment's notice if necessary, to disguise herself. Luckily neither were needed here, and Chirangi eagerly ran from exhibit to exhibit, marvelling at flora she had only read about from worlds she longed one day to visit. Jeshka followed patiently, loving every second of Chirangi's excited babbling. The old Ithorian, Shall was his name, bubbled with laughter at the curious visitors. A man of some wealth, he ran the establishment at a huge loss for his own pleasure and as he told it, the chance to restore some of what once was to this world. Healing a broken soul was a calling of many Ithorians, who were often deeply in tune with both the natural and interpersonal worlds. Healing a broken world was a noble goal indeed for an Ithorian, and though he knew it was an impossible project even for someone of his prosperity, he had dedicated a huge portion of his life and funding to renew this once fertile planet. 

Jeshka smiled at the Ithorian as Chirangi excitedly pointed at a simulated Felucian undergrowth. She would restore Concord Dawn to its former glory. One day the Protectors would see the right way.

***

"I've been meaning to ask," Chirangi said as she cut another slice of delicious Loaon pastry and soaked it in the sauce of melted nerf-cheese and local spices, "how do you know so many great spots on Concord Dawn? You're like my own personal RX droid."

Jeshka giggled. "Surely I'm not so annoying as one of those malfunctioning chatterboxes. No, I've just got local knowledge." She leaned her chin on her hand and idly slid a finger around the rim of her Uelk glass. "My mother was from Concord Dawn. She used to take me here once a year when it was winter at our home on Concordia. We'd do everything there was to do, and there's not much to do on Concord Dawn. So, I got to know a lot of these places pretty well."

Chirangi realized she knew next to nothing about Jeshka's parents. The subject hadn't come up before. She considered pressing further, but before she could, Jeshka continued unprompted. 

"My mother wasn't a warrior. She was a trader pilot, flying cargo to and from wherever it needed to be. She married into my father's family, who were all warriors for Clan Orash going back generations. She always wanted more from life...until one day she got caught in an ion storm and lost control of her ship. I was fifteen when she died, since then it's just been me and my father. I'd always wanted to be a warrior like him. After I lost my mother I trained twice as hard. I had so much anger, I needed a direction for it, and I became such an exemplary warrior I earned my family's armour before I was even of age..." she shook her head, and looked at Chirangi. 

"Sorry, I've been monologuing. You want some dessert?"

Chirangi was shaken from her reverie. Jeshka was so ready to bare herself emotionally to her. It had seemed so easy, so natural, even though the memory was clearly painful. She was reminded again how fortunate she was to have this woman as her girlfriend.

"Sounds good. I think I'll have some shousaberry pie..."

***

Chirangi stirred from her peaceful sleep. Her bare dark flesh pressed against her girlfriend's naked body. The thin sheet that protected them both from the warm night air rustled as a cool wind drifted in through the open window of the hotel room. Chirangi propped herself up on one elbow, and admired Jeshka's sleeping form. Her slender breasts rose and fell gently with her chest, and her arms were spread towards Chirangi, as though reaching out to her.

Chirangi carefully stood from the bed, her bare feet pressing on the cool tiles of the hotel floor. She padded over to the window, gazing out at the two visible moons of the world and the ever-present debris field. She crossed her arms over her breasts and turned back to face Jeshka. In the morning she would depart again, and then how long would it be? However long it was was too long. Selfishly, she just wanted the war to be over, so that they could be together until death did them part. But she believed in the cause, truly, and knew that one side must fall for the other to triumph. She sighed, closed the window, and quietly crossed the room and pulled the bedsheets back over herself. She wrapped one arm tightly around Jeshka, pulling herself in close again so that their bodies pressed together and she felt the movement of Jeshka's breath in her own chest. 

She held on tight. She didn't want to let go.


	8. Bright Nights and Ancient Rites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeshka's station on Concordia leaves her a lot of down time. Chirangi, leading Clan Nuskell's campaign on the surface of Mandalore, arranges a date on her personal starship.

The skies over Concordia had changed. Only a few years ago they were dark azure during the day and a dazzling white at night as Mandalore crossed the sky. Now they were a metallic haze at all hours, little light from above shining through the thick smog that covered much of the moon. Old trees that had stood longer than any semtient being on Concordia were felled, to make way for more and more mines and factories. From the small porch outside her barracks to the horizon columns of ash poured into the sky, forges where labourers and manufacturing droids toiled ceaselessly to produce the weapons of war to supply the huge armies of levies that had been raised on the surface. The levy armies were one step above conscription, in truth. Ancient pacts between clans and servants that had not been invoked in countless generations were used to drive up recruitment through coercion. High impact propaganda against the Duchess and the Clans who supported her pervaded the every day life of every worker in the domed cities of House Vizsla and their allies, drumming up fervent hatred that pushed many more to volunteer. Jeshka didn't like it, but her side had lost many warriors by now. It was a necessary move to end the conflict and bring victory. The same applied to the destruction of the forests on Concordia. Sacrifices had to be made. 

She turned and walked back into the barracks. It was time to get ready, and forget about the war again for a time. In a few short hours she would again be in the arms of her beloved.

***

Chirangi deactivated the engines of her transport and let it settle into the orbit vector that would bring it to the arranged meeting point. She sat back in the single pilot seat, removing her gloved hands from the controls. She stood out of the seat and checked her orbit. Ninety minutes to the meeting point. She relaxed a little. Enough time for a quick shower and to do her hair up nicely before she got ready. 

She walked out of the cockpit and through the sumptuously decorated main hall of the pleasure craft, back through the luxurious living quarters to the more Spartan engine section. This craft was built for several crew members to operate, but with a little attendance it could run itself well enough. A little manual work would help conserve valuable fuel, she knew, so she set about the network of pipes, valves and ducts that conveyed the fuel which powered the machine through space. She leaned through a tight gap between two thick pipes and twisted at a couple valves to shut off injection to the hyperdrive. It was hard work with her thick gloves on - she decided to just take them off and get her hands covered in engine oil. She was having a shower soon anyway.

Finishing up her engine adjustments, Chirangi headed back to the living quarters, stripping out of her pilot uniform and stepping into the shower. She washed thoroughly, then stepped out and blasted her hair with the vibrodryer, scattering a mist of water droplets around the room. Then she pulled her hair tightly in a bun like the formal style she had worn when she took up the armour, so long ago. Finally, she wiped a simple absorbent cloth over herself to soak up the water running down her body, then stepped out into the dark wood panelled dressing room.

***

With a hiss, the docking hatch slid open, allowing Jeshka to step into the reception hall. She marvelled at the beautiful decoration, murals carved in red durasteel depicting scenes from history and myth (and some that nobody could decide which they were) and hanging lacquered ornaments of abstract form. Jeshka wore a dark shawl over a deep jade robe, and a formal breastplate was fastened around her chest. It bore no symbols and was a plain dark green. Similar plates were on her shins and a thick belt inlaid with a weaving design of black flowers narrowed her robe about her waist. Her hair hung loose, and a soft circular hat sat on top of her head, made of a fabric the same colour as her plates and ringed several times by a black stripe. 

At the other end of the hall, Chirangi stood in a simple bright yellow backless dress, a pair of pale delicate gloves covering her hands and up to her elbows. A circlet sat gently on her head, a simple band of gold with a single sapphire suspended on her forehead by a tiny grav-emitter embedded in the circlet.

They smiled at each other, and wordlessly, Jeshka linked her arm with that of her love, and they stepped into the main hall.

***

Chirangi had had to halt her music studies when she began martial training, but kept up her playing of a few instruments in the little down time she got. She'd prepared a special performance for Jeshka in the main hall. She kneeled next to a stringed instrument that lay horizontally on a small table, and a little drum with a single thick stick. Jeshka sat cross legged among a pile of cushions, her shawl gathered around her, a warm smile on her face as she faced her girlfriend. 

Chirangi twanged on the thick strings of the string instrument with her right hand, and beat the drum to a time signature with her left. To this simple accompaniment, she began to sing in the low light.

She sang in the ancient Mando'a tongue, passed down from the mysterious race that was the genesis of Mandalorian culture. All that remained of them now was their language and the legacy of the Mandalorians who now lived. Even their name was long vanished.

Her low voice reverberated around the room, reciting words that told of battles and glory, victories millennia past and lives lost in honour. The verses spilled out and Jeshka felt thrills run through her. She knew many war chants of her Clan and could hum a few bars of some of the latest Core World pop songs she'd heard on the holonet, but music like this felt like it was diving into her soul. Just the hands and the breath of one woman, but it was as beautiful as the united voices of a hundred hundred warriors. 

***

The couple's formal clothing was hung carefully in one corner of the largest bedroom of the ship's living quarters. In the wide four poster bed, Chirangi clung tightly to her girlfriend, straddling one leg over her as they kissed passionately. Jeshka brushed her hand down Chirangi's bare back and then through her hair, which now hung loosely down to her shoulders. A little sweat glistened on both their naked bodies from their love making under the thick sheets. They broke apart their kiss and looked deep into each other's eyes drawing deep breaths.

Both of them had, in the past, briefly considered fleeing the war entirely, but neither would yet be willing to follow through. No, still they believed in their cause, and would see it through to the end. Then they could truly think about the rest of their lives together, as more than just a fantasy.

Chirangi placed one hand on Jeshka's belly, and the other behind her head, as they drew close to each other again, bodies intwining with each other as they made love, pressed together, not wanting to let go for a second.


	9. The Duchess and the Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war on Mandalore nears its end. Cornered, the Vizsla forces plot to assassinate the Duchess of Mandalore, Satine Kryze. The Republic finally involves itself in the war, dispatching a pair of Jedi to protect Satine...

This was the first time Chirangi had ever met a Jedi. He was a strange sight, simply dressed in a rough wool robe, and unremarkable in many ways. He bore no tattoos, no warrior markings, no armour. He didn't look like much of a warrior, but Chirangi knew from the sorrowful history of Mandalore that a Jedi could be a dangerous opponent indeed. He was long-haired and bearded, a wise countenance on his face and his hands folded among his robes. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, she was told, a man from Coruscant. Chirangi had begrudged the involvement of the Republic in this war - she wanted a Mandalore free not only of the violence of the past, but also of rule by outsiders. The Duchess had promised that this would come to pass, and the Republic would not come to Mandalore and absorb it into their borders. The Jedi bodyguards the Republic had offered were a necessary measure, she had said, to ensure this. If she were killed, her sister Bo-Katan would become Duchess, and then it would not be long before House Vizsla installed themselves as the rulers of Mandalore. Chirangi wondered what was meant by this. Was Bo-Katan not a strong enough leader? Or was she sympathetic to the Vizsla cause?

The Jedi Master's apprentice stepped forward from underneath the rock outcropping where he had been meditating. They were far from Mandalore, on the irregularly shaped fourth moon of the Toutech system. Clan Tosha's ancient home was on Toutech V, from before they relocated to Astore centuries ago after their clan bond with Clan Nuskell, and an outpost of Tosha elite warriors still lived and trained there. These warriors were mostly non-humans - though theoretically the way of the Mandalorian warrior was open to any species, the insularity of Mandalore from the rest of the galaxy meant that most of those who followed that path were humans from Mandalorian space. The head of Clan Tosha, a Rodian named Jahtee Tosha, was one of few outsiders to lead a Clan. They were the descendant of a Rodian woman who had married the human who was the Clan head of Clan Tosha centuries ago, and since then the family had branched into a mix of humans and Rodians. The two species could not produce offspring together, so the mantle of Clan head was often passed from one side of the family to the next. Many Rodians formed part of the elite warriors of Clan Tosha, the descendants of the followers of the Rodian woman who had married the Tosha man centuries ago. She had been the leader of a Rodian mercenary band, and those mercenaries were accepted into the warrior corps of Tosha. Many other species were represented among these elites - Duros, Snivvians, Phuii and dozens of others. A small contingent of Toshan elite warriors was accompanying Chirangi, the Jedi, and Satine as they hid from the dangerous assassins of Vizsla.

The Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, had a small string of hair running out from the back of his head. Qui-Gon had told her this served to show he was an apprentice, not yet a full Jedi. Chirangi wondered what a mere apprentice could do to protect the Duchess. Satine herself was in a portable cabin a few meters ahead, over the rock outcropping. Ten helmetless warriors stood guard, their armour covered by thick cloaks, disguised but ready to fight at a moment's notice.

And fight they would have to. Qui-Gon stiffened suddenly, and turned to his apprentice. They communed quietly a second, before Obi-Wan ran off to the Duchess' tent, and Qui-Gon walked over to Chirangi.

"Command these warriors to be ready for battle. A ship has entered the atmosphere and is heading our way on a landing vector. I sense danger for the Duchess."

Chirangi nodded, and dropped her cloak to the ground. In the bright light of Toutech's white suns, her red armour shone. Putting on her helmet, she gestured toward the helmetless Duros warrior who stood nearby. The command was understood, and the guards all revealed their own yellow armour, placed their variously shaped helmets on their heads, and readied their weapons.

***

The battle had slowed to a grind. The quick, mobile warfare Jeshka was used to did not apply to armies of tens of thousands, who needed their own unwieldy supply chains and seemed to cover as much ground in a month as a small group of warriors could in a single day. If, that is, they were not opposed. The domed city of their enemy still gleamed in the distance, but it grew further away with every passing day as the huge army was forced to retreat.

A messenger ran up to her. His face was covered in powdery white dirt from lying on the desolate Mandalorian ground. Many of the encampments had had to be abandoned, with some soldiers being forced to sleep on the ground, beds in the camps being reserved for the most vulnerable. He reported that there was another attack on the left flank underway - a strike group of warriors from Clan Kryze, with mechanized support. The levies on the flank were being decimated, and their vulnerable artillery walkers were threatened. Jeshka nodded. She rocketed over to the left flank, landing roughly in the middle of a squadron of levies who kneeled and fired their blaster rifles in the direction of their enemy. They weren't doing much - they weren't accurate enough to hit the fast moving warriors, and their rifles were too weak to penetrate the armour of the two-cannoned attack walkers, their canopies covered over, protecting their pilots. There were few warriors left on this front. Most had perished in their failed attempt to reach the Kryze city and destroy its outer dome. They were stretched thin, but a few reinforcements were on the way, ETA a few minutes. Jeshka nodded. If this flank was to survive, she needed to act now.

She rocketed to the front line, where fast, mobile warriors in blue and white armour were cutting a swathe through the mass of levied soldiers, who were panicking and melting away before them. She landed behind the line of combat and felled the first enemy warrior by landing on her, kicking her to the ground before blasting her head once with her rifle. She swung around and squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times, killing three more enemies in quick succession. The Kryze forces noticed now that they were attacked from two fronts - Jeshka's plan had been to disorient them by believing that reinforcements had arrived, even if it was just her. It worked for long enough that the levy soldiers began to push back, finally wielding their simple blades instead of their blaster rifles, allowing them to press against the enemy and overwhelm some of them. Seeing this, Jeshka relocated along the line, closer to the walkers. As she flew she let fly another series of blaster shots, dropping a pair of enemies who had taken to the skies, and sewing discord among the remaining warriors. They too had been bled greatly by the devastating siege, and could only spare small groups of warriors. They would attempt a retreat, she knew, if she could disable the mechanized component of this attack. There were ten walkers, advancing inexorably to the large and unwieldy artillery. They would be in range in minutes. Jeshka couldn't take them all on herself, so she sure hoped the reinforcements would arrive soon.

Arcing her jump toward the nearest walker, she raised her vambrace and fired two small sonic missiles. They planted themselves in the cockpit before detonating, sending a deadly wave of vibrations through the cockpit, and blasting it open on one side. The walker slumped over, its legs breaking apart under the weight of the fallen cockpit. Ahead another of the gangly walkers fired its blaster cannons into the swelling ranks of Vizsla soldiers as blaster fire was absorbed harmlessly by its armour. Jeshka cut her jets close to it and pulled out her vibro-sword. She fired another quick jet, which landed her on the cockpit. What she wanted was to use its weapons against the others, but this walker was rapidly closing to range. She didn't have time to figure a way inside. She climbed to the vulnerable join where the legs met the cockpit, where its primary drive motivator was buried underneath a tangle of circuit boxes and power supplies. She swung her vibro-sword, cutting away the vital components, and electric sparks showered around her onto the ground. Then she fired a high-powered electrical blast into the motivator and jumped off as the legs shorted and the cockpit fell forwards onto the ground. As she looked to the next walker her heart first sank, as it opened fire on the artillery ahead, but then rose again as she saw it was a desperation move, the shots scattering wide of their target, before the walker's cockpit exploded under a hail of rocket fire. Her reinforcements had arrived.

***

The skies opened over the fourth moon, as alkaline rain poured down over the rocky ledge overlooking the valley below. A transport had landed in the valley and disgorged a number of bounty hunters. There was no doubt that the Duchess was their target, and that meant they had been discovered. They would have to move her again after the battle was over.

Across the mouth of the valley, eleven Mandalorian warriors lay on their stomachs in wait, ready to ambush the bounty hunters. The Jedi were with the Duchess, a back line if any bounty hunters got close enough to make an attempt on her life. Chirangi pulled down her rangefinder to examine the enemy. She couldn't identify the syndicate they worked for, but they were heavily armed, ready for a pitched battle. Some rode on speeders, others on foot. Their leader appeared to be an enormous Herglic, and close to their side was a Bith who looked like a second-in-command of some sort. The Bith wore a jet pack and wielded a pair of sharp wrist blades. The Bith took to the sky, and only then did Chirangi notice that there were more enemies than she had first noticed. In the skies, a flock of leathery-winged mercenaries of a species she did not recognize circled the mercenaries on the ground. She communicated this to the other warriors through her helmet communicator. This fight just got more complicated.

The mercenaries passed in range. Thirty-five on the ground, five bikes, including the leader. Fifteen in the air, plus the Bith. The time had come.

A hail of blaster fire rained down on the mercs from both sides of the valley. Seven of the aerial support wheeled over toward Chirangi, as the others broke off toward the other side. The mercs on the ground returned fire, pulverizing rocks into dust. The Mandalorians all rocketed into the air. Chirangi saw one of the winged creatures ahead as she rose. It was aiming a flechette rifle at her companions. She raised her blaster pistol and fired at it three times, hitting twice, and punching a hole in its chest and one of its wings. A shriek emerged from its snout as it fell out of the sky. She landed on the rock of the valley bottom, where three other Mandalorians were already fighting. She blasted a Fluggrian mercenary before he could raise his blaster cannon, and dodged sideways to avoid the fire of the sonic rifle of a human merc. She returned fire, scoring a shot on his head, then holstered her blaster pistol and equipped her vibro-halberd. To her right, the Duros she had seen earlier - Jik Rues - was engaged in a sword duel with an Erithar merc. He dodged a swing from the enemy and countered with a thrust, penetrating the Erithar's flak jacket and felling them. Chirangi ran over to Jik, parrying the swing of another sword as she did and cutting down the Nikto woman who had attacked her. The two fought back to back, engaging the enemy. Chirangi leapt at a large blaster-cannon bearing cyborg human, her legs and arms replaced with powerful mechanical limbs, and a dangerous targeting array replacing one eye. She swept at the woman's legs with her halberd, the vibrations sawing quickly through her robotic feet, as Jik jetted over from behind her and plunged his sword into her organic torso. Her mechanized eye flickered and died as she did. As Chirangi turned to face Jik, another of the winged mercs swooped out of the sky and grabbed him with a pair of dangling, sticky feet. Chirangi yelled out and grabbed her blaster pistol, firing off a shot after them, but was forced to stop for fear of hitting Jik. She watched in horror as they struggled, Jik attempting to activate his jet pack before a burst of flechettes from the merc's rifle cut into his body and he went limp. Chirangi roared in anger as Jik's body fell to the ground, and she loosed shot after shot at the enemy who had killed him. One shot hit its mark, and her winged foe spiraled out of the sky to the valley floor. She turned back to the battle, just in time to dodge a great swing from the Herglic's huge blade. It crackled with power and hummed as it swung through the air around her. A power sword. Even Chirangi's venerable halberd would have trouble standing up to more than one hit from that. She stepped to the side, ducking low, and held her halberd out in front of her. She ran toward the Herglic and shoved the point of it at what looked like a vulnerable point in their armour. It stuck into the Herglic's thick hide, but barely slowed them as she was slapped away by their hand. She landed roughly, rolling out of the strike and trying another thrust, this time at the Herglic's exposed head. Her halberd slashed across its head, leaving a deep scar, but still it seemed to have little effect. The Herglic blew air out of its nostrils, and prepared to swing their huge sword again. She activated her jet and roared over her enemy, swinging around in the air and speeding toward the back of their head. Just before she made impact she was knocked to the side by the Bith lieutenant, winded by the sudden impact. She struggled to rise and raise her halberd, which was knocked out of her hands by the Bith's wrist blades. She jumped back as the Bith slashed at her again and again, running to higher ground. She lifted her vambrace to try and blast her enemy with a jolt of electricity from her wrist, but the Bith ducked under her shot and kicked her in the stomach, and she fell to the ground. The Bith kicked off her helmet with an armoured boot, and stood over her, ready to deliver the final strike. Suddenly, a bright blue light blinded her. The Bith's body, now headless, slumped to the ground. Bewildered, she looked to one side and saw the Jedi apprentice, Obi-Wan, standing nearby as his saber returned to his hand. He smiled at her. "Hello there!" Chirangi scrambled to her feet to thank the apprentice. His Master ran up behind him. In the valley, the few remaining Mercs, including the leader, whose legs had been incapacitated, surrendered to the eight living Mandalorians. A speeder burned in the distance. The battle was won for now.

***

In the command center of the Vizsla army, Jeshka and the assembled commanders received the news that the bounty hunters had failed, but that a trace had successfully been placed on the Duchess' ship. Wherever she flew to next, they would be ready to meet her. Jeshka gazed at the star map. Soon she would be there to kill the Duchess and end the war.


	10. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeshka is forced to choose her loyalty as she tries to assassinate Duchess Satine Kryze.

As expected, the Jedi had detected the tracker and removed it quickly. But their plan had been a success. Slowly, with carefully staged ambushes and information from a network of agents, they had been forced to turn to the seemingly safe world of Kuuga. The number of bodyguards protecting the Duchess had swelled, but for their final attack a whole company of mercenaries was gathered along with the finest remaining warriors from the Clans who had not yet turned to the side of House Kryze. One way or the other, this would be the final engagement of the war that had devastated worlds and left huge numbers dead. Jeshka stepped out of the command center onto the landing platform. Ten transports, with a hundred soldiers in each. The Zabrak woman who led this mercenary company stood next to her. She was from a small Zabrak colony world that had, thousands of years ago, stood on one side of a great war that split the Zabraks from Dathomir and Iridonia. Jeshka admitted that she didn't know enough about history to know much about which side her world had been on. If they survived this, she would ask her. The woman's skin was a pale red, her dark hair buzzed short on the sides, a stripe of longer running along the top, her longest horn emerging from just beyond the end of the stripe, at the top of her forehead. Two more long horns flanked it, one on each side, and a ring of spikes filed to short, brutal points circled her head. Jeshka looked down again at the armour that had served her through the war. It had been repaired many times, the spots were scratches and holes had been patched up visible as darker spots on the predominantly pale armour. She walked up the boarding ramp of her transport, nodding at the Zabrak woman, Vuche Runkeeng, as she departed to board another transport. Warriors from Clan Orash, Clan Vizsla, Clan Rook and Clan Wren all stood in the dim light alongside the mercenaries in their tan uniforms and simple camo light armour over them. She took a seat and strapped in as the door shut and the transport took off, preparing to jump to its destination.

***

In the months since the first attempt on Satine's life, she had formed quite a bond with the Jedi apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Chirangi had noticed the way they looked at each other, and the many times they would steal off into the night, leaving her alone with the stoic Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan was always the first to rush to the Duchess' protection when they faced danger, and he had been scolded by his master several times for 'recklessness'. Chirangi had discussed this at length with Qui-Gon, suggesting that Obi-Wan should instead be praised for his initiative, but Qui-Gon had detailed the Jedi guidance on rushing headlong into danger without consideration, and explained well why Obi-Wan should have reflected on his brashness. Chirangi gained some insights into the Jedi philosophy through Qui-Gon, a subject she had mostly brushed over in her study of the wider galaxy, deeming the Jedi a minor part of the present state of galactic affairs at this time, but she grew to respect the role the Jedi played in the Republic. She thought back to the legendary Tarre Vizsla, the first Mandalorian to become a Jedi, and who later bore the archaic title of Mand'alor. She had learned much about him from Qui-Gon, how he united Mandalore under his rule, wielding his unique saber as a symbol of his rule. This same saber was now in the hands of Clan Vizsla, all these years later. It had been stolen from the Jedi temple where it lay, years after Tarre's death, by members of Clan Vizsla. Tarre's passing had brought war and disunity again to Mandalore, and only the Darksaber of Tarre Vizsla could restore their rule. This all happened over a thousand years ago, long after the ancient wars against the Jedi on Mandalore, and centuries before the devastation of the surface. 

Seeing Satine and Obi-Wan together knotted Chirangi's stomach. It had been a long time since that night on her ship, where she had last spent time with her own love. She had no idea where Jeshka was now. The dying throes of the war had claimed huge numbers of lives as both sides' attacks grew more and more desperate. Jeshka could easily have been killed in the fighting, and she would never know. She'd watched Obi-Wan and Satine go through much hardship together, Chirangi alongside them as they fought off attacks and traps, but they always had each other to go to afterward. Chirangi didn't have Jeshka. She wished that the enemy would surrender, but their many attacks on the Duchess made it clear they were willing to throw everything they had into the last hope of victory. 

Qui-Gon spooned some broth into his mouth out of a simple porcelain bowl, heated in a metal pot over the fire. Sitting on a damp log in her armour, Chirangi helped herself to a little of the broth, but had to put it aside as her stomach struggled to accept it between the somersaults that it had been performing for months now. Just as she did, she saw Qui-Gon jerk his head up to the horizon. A stern look formed in his eyes as he tipped out his broth and stood up.

"We've been discovered again. Ten transports. We'll have to retreat to the ship."

"What if we've been tracked again? We can't run forever," protested Chirangi, "this must be the enemy's last resort. We have to fight them here. Then we can end the war."

"We're vastly outnumbered," pointed out Qui-Gon, "your warriors are formidable, but we cannot win this fight, even with the power of the Force."

Chirangi had to trust Qui-Gon's authority on this one. He could better detect than her how many enemies they faced, and they could only make it off the planet if they acted now. Chirangi ordered the retreat, the hundred or so Mandalorians patrolling or resting springing into action and falling back toward the large transport they were travelling in, after ditching the ship that had been tracked. Tracking the horizon with her rangefinder, Chirangi spotted the enemy transports approaching rapidly. She assigned a few warriors, including herself, as a rear guard to cover the retreat. She unholstered her blaster pistol, and prepared for battle once again.

 

***

Jeshka held tightly to the handrail. The transport's troop hold was bathed in red light as the signal to prepare for attack blared. The instant the light turned green, the door would open and the battle would commence. The transport shook as the engines eased them into a landing zone and blaster cannon fire battered the hull. She checked her blaster rifle yet again. She had faced many combats since Garans, but this one tested her nerves. The outcome of the following minutes could win or lose the war.

With a rumble, the transport settled on the landing zone. Beside her mercenaries and warriors bristled with weapons, ready to rush out into the engagement that faced them. The light turned green, and a monotone blare signalled the beginning of the attack. The door swung open, and she ran down the landing ramp toward the objective. The Duchess' transport ship sat a mere couple hundred meters ahead. Blaster fire lanced toward them as they rushed down the ramp, cutting down a mercenary Weequay who had stood next to her a second before. A second transport was beginning its landing close to the enemy transport, and another circled overhead. Jeshka activated her jet pack, roaring into the sky toward her unseen enemy. Others who bore jet packs did the same, as did a pair of mercenaries who had brought swoop bikes. This aerial contingent rocketed toward the transport at high speed, ready to intercept the Duchess before she made her escape. A spread of blaster fire cut into the sky. She dodged out of its path and returned fire, now that her enemy had exposed their position. Her rifle's blasts impacted among the trees of the grove that lay in the path of their attack, toppling one of the trees and spreading a small blaze along its trunk. She directed the mercenary swoops to carry out a run over the treeline, dropping grenades on the defenders that blocked their progress to the transport. As they moved to follow her order, one of the swoops was struck by a blaster shot on its engines, and was sent plunging into the forest. No explosion followed, but a rising column of smoke suggested it would never fly again.

***

As the mercenary's swoop bike fell to the forest below, Chirangi yelled out to take cover. The other swoop was still on a dangerous vector. Sure enough, three loud detonations followed, lighting up the night and blowing apart a number of trees, spreading splinters and fire across the forest. A blaze was engulfing their surroundings by now, the very literal heat of battle setting fires all over the forest, which were combining into one large conflagration. The sudden heat pressed at her. At the warriors who had not been killed by the blast, she commanded they act out a fighting retreat. They would not win against this attack. Mercenary footsoldiers were already advancing through the outer forest, silhouetted large against the curtain of fire. 

Backing up, she aimed her shots carefully and killed three mercenaries who were rushing toward her, before one reached her. The human mercenary wielded a stave with deadly precision, dangerously matching her dodges and landing two hits before she could pull out her halberd and slash across his neck. He fell backwards onto a log, and she began to run back toward the transport as the fire advanced. She saw a bodyguard from Clan Tosha fall as she was shot in the back by a blaster. Ahead the few survivors of the rear guard struggled to get back to the transport. The Jedi stood protecting them, swinging their sabers to reflect the enemy's shots wherever they could. Chirangi jetted over to them.

"How's the retreat going?" she inquired.  
  


Qui-Gon looked grim. "The escape of most of your warriors has been cut off. Another transport has landed and engaged our forward guard, so they can't reach the ship."

  
"Satine is with us," Obi-Wan said, and Chirangi saw her standing not far off, a contingent of warriors from Clan Kryze around her, "but she can't go to the ship just yet. We'll have to try and take her around the front line."

  
Chirangi nodded. The Jedi backed up, as the warriors around them fired their blasters back at the mercenaries, now that they were given some degree of protection by the Jedi's sabers. Chirangi ran to Satine, ready to escort her to the ship.

 

***

Jeshka's boot stirred up white-hot ash as it landed in the forest. The blaze was all around now. She switched her visor to filter out the heat and scan for organics ahead. Most of the enemies were dead or retreating. Only two stood in their way. The Jedi. It had to be.

Jeshka breathed deeply, her helmet filtering out the ash in the air. She strode forward, more warriors landing around her. Fighting a Jedi. An honour indeed.

She switched her visor back to normal vision and fired two shots at the nearest Jedi. Both were reflected by swings of his blue saber. She thought quickly - where was Satine? She must be up ahead, beyond the Jedi, trying to sneak past the ambush from the second dropship. Very well. She would deal with the Jedi, then take Satine. 

A warrior rushed at the Jedi with the green saber, but he was halted in the middle of his attack and pushed back. Another swung a vibro-stave at him from behind, but it was deflected by his saber, and the stave was cut in two. The Jedi was too weak to finish the opponent off, so he pushed her too into the distance, as though a great hand had simply plucked her off her feet and tossed her away. The Jedi would surely not last long, however. They were on the back foot, and slowly, they were being surrounded. Jeshka drew her sword and took her opportunity to attack as the blue-sabered Jedi, the younger of the two, was distracted by blaster fire. She jetted over to him and swung her sword in a brutal arc, intending to take his head off in one stroke. But, impossibly, he dodged her, and parried her blow. She cut her jets, her sword holding thanks to its cortosis weave. She drew it back and thrust again, again, and again, but each time she was thwarted. Up close, she saw he was little more than a boy, several years younger than her. He must only be the same age as the young Duchess. She tried to sweep his legs, but he jumped over the attack and she felt an impact on her face, much more force than should have come from just his boot. Force...of course. He had reached out with the force to kick her. She laughed at the strange image as she twirled her trusty vibro-sword, but instead of swinging again, she reached for her vambrace and let loose a spout of flames. The Jedi was surprised, but he reacted instantly, jumping out of reach of the flamethrower's spit. Then, her heart skipped a beat. There, in the distance, she spotted the Duchess being escorted by a small group of warriors. She turned her back on the Jedi, just as a squadron of mercenaries emerged and opened fire on them. Their blasters were ripped from their hands as the two Jedi wielded the Force against them, but the Jedi were still surrounded. It would not be long before they were dead.   
  


She jetted towards the Duchess. By her own hand, the war would end.

***

The fire had even spread to the forest trail they were using as an escape route. Oily black smoke drifted through the air. Satine coughed loudly, covering her mouth with her dress, her eyes watering. Chirangi gave up her helmet - she could deal with the smoke for a short time. The ship was just up ahead.

Suddenly, a scream rang out from behind her. One of the guards had disappeared. A second later, another guard fell to the ground as a blaster shot impacted on his chest. Chirangi swung her halberd around to face the invisible attacker. There was only she and one other guard left to protect the Duchess now. A roar signaled the approach of a jetpacked enemy. With blinding speed, a warrior emerged from the smoke and slammed shoulder first into the guard, knocking him to the ground before plunging a vibro-sword deep into his breastplate. Chirangi's eyes were covered by the smoke, but she saw the enemy raise a blaster rifle and aim it at the Duchess. Thinking quickly, she swung her halberd upward, flinging the rifle into the air. She stepped forward to engage as the enemy drew their sword. Stepped forward, and stared directly into the helmet of -

***

\- her lover. No. Not now. Of all the people in the universe. The love of her life stood in the way of Jeshka ending the war. Fury coursed through her, as hot as the fire that surrounded them. She yelled out, a war cry filled with pain, as she swung her sword at Chirangi. She had to kill the Duchess. This was their only chance to live their lives together, the way it should be. Only the end of the war could bring them together. Tears streamed down her face. Chirangi's halberd deflected her sword stroke. Jeshka cried out again, tearing her helmet from her face. 

"Chirangi!" she cried, "why are you doing this to me! It's not supposed to go like this..."

Chirangi's face, too, had paths streaked through the ash where tears had carved through it. Her teeth were gritted. As Chirangi thrust her halberd at Jeshka, she wailed wordlessly, a far cry from the sweet music of their last meeting.

"DUCHESS!" she screamed, "GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!"

Jeshka yelled again as her only chance to end the war slipped through her fingers. Her brow contorted with rage. Rage at Chirangi. Rage at the Duchess. Rage at this war that had now taken everything from her. 

Between their tears, the clash of their weapons and the crackle of fire was all they heard. Neither had anything to say now. Neither knew what would come next. Each thought, would she now be willing to kill her love, after all they had been through? Would they be able to live in peace, after this?

Their battle was interrupted as a wing of Claw strike craft shrieked overhead. One of the transports exploded as blaster cannon fire lanced into it. The two looked up as a Clan Kryze dropship soared over the forest.   
  
Chirangi and Jeshka dropped their weapons. The war was practically over, they both knew. The last attempt to assassinate Duchess Satine had failed. What happened next?

They looked into each other's eyes. Chirangi reached out her hand. Jeshka turned away, and ran into the forest.

Chirangi's hand dropped. She fell to her knees, and buried her head in her hands. She cried, and cried, until nothing more would come. Only then did the Jedi knights find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in part 2 of "The Romance of the Moons of Mandalore"


End file.
